


Captain

by renfield31



Category: L.A. Noire
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-24
Updated: 2013-05-24
Packaged: 2017-12-12 19:37:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/815239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renfield31/pseuds/renfield31
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cole, a professional hockey player, remembers valuable advice from his mother at crucial events in his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Captain

**Author's Note:**

> I thought this would be fun because he’s obviously so goal-oriented and over-achieving. Just a little one-shot for the fandom and a canon of mine (is it headcanon? I’m not too familiar with the slang. Note: the Los Angeles Monarchs were LA’s pro hockey team in the 1940s).

_“If you remember nothing else I teach you, remember this, Cole,”_ It was the NORCAL Youth Hockey League Championship. The game had finished regulation and overtime and it was now time for a shootout. Twelve-year-old Cole Phelps, the captain of the Sabercats, was skating up to the puck to take his shot. Cole’s mother’s words rang in his head. _“You were born to skate, you were born to score, and more importantly, you were born to lead, and I love you.”_ Cole took the puck and skated towards the goalie. The lights in the rink were dimmed. Cole finally got into shooting range and shot and

“IT’S ALL OVER!!! THE SABERCATS ARE 1935 NORCAL HOCKEY LEAGUE CHAMPIONS!!!!”

Cole smiled at his mother in the crowd and she smiled back, tears coming out of her eyes as she mouthed, “I love you.”

———

Twelve years later, it was Game 7 of the Stanley Cup playoffs against the Toronto Maple Leafs. There was 07.4 seconds left in regulation. Cole Phelps, the captain of the Los Angeles Monarchs, skated in to take the faceoff. He won the draw and the puck went to one of the defensemen, who passed it back to Cole. It was a one-on-one. Cole put on the jets as he zoomed into the offensive zone. He deked around the defender and took a backhand shot and

“THE MONARCHS ARE THE MONARCHS!!!! THE LOS ANGELES MONARCHS ARE 1947 STANLEY CUP CHAMPIONS!!!!”

The NHL commissioner handed Cole the giant silver trophy and, as he hoisted it, yelling with joy with a magnificent grin on his face and tears streaming down his cheeks at the same time, he looked out of the corner of his eye to an empty seat in the stands. His mother was no longer able to sit there cheering him on, yet her words echoed in his head:

_“If you remember nothing else I teach you, remember this, Cole. You were born to skate, you were born to score, and more importantly, you were born to lead, and I love you.”_


End file.
